Demonic Dragon: Harem System - Chapter 541

Chapter 541: Blood and Runes

The moment Strax’s eyes deciphered the symbol engraved in the glowing runes, a spark of terror ran down his spine. It wasn’t just a seal. It was a trap. An ancient trap, designed to react to the presence of pure draconic power.

Whether as weaponry, defense, or a last desperate gambit, that circle was alive. And it was on the verge of awakening.

“PROTECT YOURSELVES!” Strax shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice cutting through the winds and heat like thunder tearing through the sky.

In an instinctive gesture, he wrapped himself in his black wings like a cocoon, the dark membrane enveloping his body completely, protecting him like a wall of flesh and power. He narrowed his eyes, holding his breath. He knew that what would come next would not only be heat… but destruction.

And the worst came.

The seal exploded.

Not like a common spell. Not like a burst of energy.

But like a forced, brutal eruption, as if the very heart of the world had been pierced. Lava rose in a huge column, like a raging dragon releasing its last breath against the heavens. A tongue of fire, magma, and raw energy rose toward the sky and struck Strax with everything it had.

The collision was catastrophic.

The world went white for a second, swallowed by the brightness of the explosion. The clouds were torn apart. The heavens roared. Time itself seemed to hesitate.

But Strax resisted.

Lava enveloped his body, trying to consume him. But he remained motionless, within his crossed wings. The pain he expected to feel… never came. The energy enveloped him, trying to pierce his skin, his mind, his essence—and failed.

The immunity to fire he had always known… was deeper than he thought.

This was not just resistance.

It was mastery.

As if the fire did not dare to hurt him. As if the heat itself recognized something familiar in him — or worse, superior.

Strax slowly opened his eyes, in the midst of the hell he found himself in. The flames danced around him like timid servants. The magma flowed over his armor without even warming it. His body wasn’t just surviving. He reigned there.

But then he heard a scream.

Loud.

Sharp.

Full of pain.

Scarlet.

He raised his eyes at the same moment, breaking the cocoon of wings around him, only to see the scene above completely transformed.

The sky was now filled with a dense, orange cloud of smoke. The air was boiling. The atmospheric pressure was reconfiguring itself as if the whole world was being reshaped by that explosion. And there, among the blurs of gray and red, he saw her.

Scarlet.

She was trying to fly, but her wings… were damaged. The corners were burned, partially melted, the membranes torn like old paper. She screamed in pain, spinning in the air, trying to maintain her balance.

Unlike Tiamat and Ouroboros, Scarlet was young.

Too young.

Less than a month had passed since she had become a dragon, since her body had accepted the changes and her soul had been marked with the primordial essence. And now… she was paying the price.

The fire was burning her. Destroying her.

“SCARLET!” Strax roared, breaking the space between them with a colossal thrust. In less than a second, he was beside her, his wings shredding into wisps of shadow before rebuilding themselves around her wounded body like a protective cocoon.

She looked at him, her red eyes teary, her lips trembling.

“My… my wings…” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

“It’ll be okay,” Strax lied, as he dove with her in his arms toward a rocky platform further down the crater, away from the center of the explosion.

He landed hard, his knees digging into the ground, breathing heavily.

Tiamat and Ouroboros arrived shortly after, descending like silver comets.

Ouroboros reached out his hands and immediately conjured a spherical energy field around them, muffling the effects of the external heat. His hands trembled slightly. “The explosion… wasn’t a defense. It was a trap.”

Tiamat wasted no time. She knelt beside Scarlet, examining the destroyed wings. “The membranes are charred. This… this will take time to heal. Time we don’t have.”

Scarlet held Strax’s hand tightly. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t… I…”

“Shhh,” he murmured, brushing her hair away from her face with unexpected gentleness. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You survived. That’s more than anyone could have hoped for.”

As Tiamat channeled healing energy into her hands, focusing every drop of power on Scarlet’s shattered wings, Ouroboros rose slowly, his eyes fixed on the sky torn apart by the explosion. The heat still vibrated in the air, rippling like invisible serpents.

“That explosion…” he murmured, his draconic pupils narrowing. “It wasn’t just magic. It was draconic. Someone used dragon blood as a catalyst. It enhanced the runes… elevated the ritual to a level that even the ancients would not dare touch. This is… forbidden knowledge. Lost. It should not exist on this plane.”

Scarlet, still lying down, gasped for breath. Sweat dripped from her forehead, mixed with soot, but her eyes, though teary, still burned with determination. She tried to sit up, but groaned in pain as her broken wings throbbed violently.

“Scathach…” she whispered, almost voiceless. “She knew. She always knew.”

Tiamat and Ouroboros turned to her immediately.

“I… I taught her the basic runes of the world,” Scarlet continued, panting. “But she… learned on her own. Too quickly. She discovered the patterns of the draconic runes—merged the two systems. The global base with the flow of draconic essence. It wasn’t just an explosion ritual… it was a hybrid enchantment. A trap and a beacon at the same time.”

Silence fell for a moment. Scarlet’s words echoed like the sound of an ancient door opening—and behind it, a forgotten truth.

Strax approached.

He watched her, his gaze serious, his pupils narrowed. Her wings trembled slightly, and he could see the worn fabric, the almost black cracks in the burnt membranes. Tiamat’s spell helped… but it wouldn’t be enough. Not in time.

Without saying a word, he reached out his arm. A simple gesture. He cut his palm with his fingernail, letting the blood flow thick and red like living lava.

Scarlet’s eyes widened.

“Wait… I’m not a vampire anymore. It won’t work…” she said, trying to pull away.

Strax didn’t even blink.

“Drink. And be quiet.”

His tone was cold. Irrefutable.

He brought his hand closer to her face, and the blood dripped directly onto her lips.

She hesitated. But then… she felt it.

As soon as the first drop touched her tongue, something awakened. It wasn’t like the vampiric hunger she had known before. It was something more primitive. Strax’s blood… burned like pure essence. Like a breath from the draconic core itself.

Scarlet’s veins glowed beneath her pale skin, as if strands of liquid gold ran through her body. Her eyes widened, and she arched her back, an involuntary moan escaping her lips as she felt her wings begin to throb with force.

The tissue regenerated.

Not slowly.

But violently.

The flesh recomposed itself as if obeying a higher order, the cracks disappearing, the membranes stretching and recomposing, brand new, stronger, denser. The bones cracked as the internal structures of the wings realigned with surgical precision.

Scarlet gasped, her eyes shining with supernatural intensity. For a moment, a red aura enveloped her entire body, as if Strax’s blood had ignited a forgotten spark in her.

“Why…?” she whispered, panting, “Why is this so… so strong?”

Strax stepped back, closing the wound on his palm with a slight magical snap. His face was a mask of absolute focus.

“When you were a vampire, my blood was too strong. It would have consumed you from within.” He stared at her, his gaze serious. “Now that you are a dragoon… it only shapes you.”

Tiamat stepped back, watching the instant regeneration with restrained amazement. “This… this isn’t just healing. It’s heritage. Your blood carries traces of a forgotten lineage. Something even we don’t have.”

“He’s an anomaly,” Ouroboros murmured, almost smiling. “A break from the pattern. The fusion of forces that should never coexist.”

Scarlet sat up, her wings fluttering lightly. New. Shiny. Almost ethereal.

She stared at Strax, her breathing still heavy, but her eyes steady.

“…Thank you,” she said, with raw sincerity.

He just nodded. “Don’t thank me. Surviving is the least I can do.”

And then he turned back to the abyss before them, where smoke still rose and the earth seemed to breathe.

“The thing that created this seal… that used blood and manipulated the runes…” he muttered. “It’s still down there. Waiting.”

Tiamat approached, crossing her arms, her golden wings spreading like veils of solar fire.

“Are you really going alone?”

“I’m going ahead,” Strax corrected. “If I die, you’ll know what kind of enemy we’re facing.”

Ouroboros just smiled, enigmatic as ever. “Then you’d better not die. It would be a terrible start to this new era.”

Strax walked to the edge of the cliff. The crater was quieter now. But not calmer. It was the kind of silence that preceded a roar. The whole world seemed to hold its breath.

Scarlet stood up behind him, her wings completely regenerated.

“If you fall… I swear I’ll go down there and kill that thing myself.”

Strax turned his face slightly, just enough to let out a half-smile.

“If I fall… she’ll need more than you.”

And then he jumped.

Again.